Chuck vs the Rejection
by gosai-girl
Summary: Chuck and Casey know that they should be together, but can Casey let himself accept his love for Chuck? Casey /Chuck, nothing graphic, but unfinshed so far. Don't like, don't read!
1. Casey

Chuck closed his eyes and sighed happily, smiling as he listened to the rain beat down on his roof. He had always loved the rain- he couldn't explain it, and couldn't remember how or when his obsession with it began. It was just such a beautiful process; something no one could induce or stop. It was purely a process of nature, occurring only when nature felt it necessary, and ceasing only when the land it sprinkled had its fill.

Sure, he had always been more electronics based than anything else; circuit boards were his calling. But there was something about the rain, which was one of the only things that could pull him out of the electronics-induced, somewhat comatose state he always fell into as he worked.

Chuck lifted himself off of his bed and walked over to his window. He opened it, closed his eyes, smelled the rain in the night air, and sighed happily again. He thrust his head out the window, eyes still closed.

"Bartowski!"

"Gah!"

His eyes flew open and he jumped at the sound of the gruff voice in front of him, hitting his head on his window on the way up. He winced and rubbed his head as he looked up to see John Casey, NSA Colonel and former handler (more recently something along the lines of partner, teammate maybe, since Chuck was becoming a full-fledged spy). He was leaning slightly away from Chuck with a smirk on his face.

"What were you trying to do, Bartowski, kiss me?"

Casey crossed his arms over his chest menacingly, but his smirk remained. Chuck hadn't quite caught on to the fact that it had been a joke, however.

"What? No! I just… I… I wanted… and then… and I… and you…"

Chuck cut himself off before he could make an even bigger fool of himself with his incoherent babble.

"Relax, Bartowski, it was a joke," Casey snapped, smirk gone. "Now let me in. I'm getting soaked out here."

"Oh!"

Chuck realized with a start that Casey was dripping wet, and quickly stepped away from the window so that he could climb in. Chuck handed Casey a spare clean towel that had been sitting on his dresser. Casey thanked him and began to dry himself off, starting by dabbing at his pant legs. Chuck watched Casey, somewhat awestruck as beads of rain danced on Casey's muscles as they flexed, and glistened in his hair. Casey quickly finished drying everything but his hair, and reached the towel above his head to do so, but stopped when he saw Chuck staring at him, a dumbstruck look on his face.

"What?" he barked.

Chuck started at the abruptness of his question and was pulled out of his fantasies.

"What? Nothing, no reason."

He looked away and ran his fingers through his soft brown curls awkwardly. Casey was tempted to do the same, but by the time the thought had left his brain and reached his arm, his spy training had kicked in and pummeled the urge. He reached up and dried his hair instead.

"So, why are you here?"

"What?" Casey asked again, in a normal tone, peeking his face out from underneath the towel. He then disappeared under it again as he finished drying his hair, pulled it off of his head, and looked around the room for somewhere to put the now soaking towel.

"Why are you here?" Chuck repeated. "Do we have a mission or a date or something?"

"Date?" Casey spat, his head snapping up to meet Chuck's suddenly panicked eyes.

"What? No, that's not what I meant! I meant something like ann… appointment! Or recon! …or undercover work… you know, spy stuff."

Chuck's words were hurried, each trying to be the first out of his mouth, but by the end of his rushed ramblings, the haste in his voice had weakened. Chuck grimaced, kicking himself internally for making an ass of himself. He was made even more uncomfortable by Casey's unceasing stare as he tried to read Chuck's face. Casey's own expression was one of false impatience and annoyance. He refused to let his expression slip and reveal that his heart had raced when Chuck had said the word "date."

Chuck's face heated up as Casey continued to gaze deeply into his eyes, searchingly. He was thankful for the lack of light, which concealed his fiery cheeks.

Suddenly, he noticed a droplet of rain glimmering on the agent's jaw, illuminated with a blue tint by the moonlight streaming in through the window. He reached out to wipe it away. Casey stumbled back a step, shock apparent on his face, and he glanced quickly at Chuck's hand, and then back into his deep brown eyes. Chuck's hand had retracted slightly, hesitating when Casey had moved away from him, but his arm was still outstretched.

"Chuck, I… we…"

Casey couldn't form the words he needed to make Chuck lower his hand and stop staring at him in desire. He couldn't force himself to say what he needed to say to reject Chuck. Chuck took a step forward and brushed his fingers gently along Casey's jaw line, wiping away the droplet. Casey closed his eyes and leaned into Chuck's touch. Before he could open his eyes again, Chuck had a hand on either side of Casey's face, holding it in place, and suddenly his lips were covering Casey's, kissing him with a passionate urgency.

Casey stiffened, his eyes opening. He quickly clamped them shut again, however, as he began to count down from three in his head, mentally preparing himself for the hurt that would no doubt fill Chuck's eyes when Casey pushed him away in…

3…

Casey steeled his nerves, making himself impervious to anything. Rejecting Chuck would hurt them both, but they would just have to deal. After all, Casey thought, it was in both of their best professional interests if they weren't involved, right?

2…

Casey put his hands on Chuck's chest. He would push lightly; the kid wasn't very heavy.

1…

Casey suddenly forgot what he was counting for at the feel of Chuck's tongue running over his lips in an attempt to make Casey open them.

It worked.

Casey's mouth opened automatically, allowing Chuck inside. His hands slid across Chuck's chest and around to his back, pulling him closer. Chuck, pleased with Casey's reaction, slid his hands down the agent's neck, his shoulders, his pecs, as they continued to kiss, tongues tasting, lips pressed together forcefully.

Finally, the need for air caused Chuck to break the kiss. He smiled his adorable smile at Casey.

"So this is what you came here for," Chuck said slyly. He leaned into Casey's neck, breathing hot and moist, making Casey shiver, and mumbled, "I don't blame you."

Casey moaned slightly as Chuck bit and sucked at his neck. He kissed his way up Casey's neck and jaw until their lips met again. Casey explored Chuck's mouth with his tongue, dominating the kiss and making Chuck moan back eagerly.

Oh, Chuck was making the most delicious noises now. His hands were under Casey's shirt, his body pressed close, his mouth talented and luscious. Casey wanted more- he wanted to make Chuck shout, he wanted to feel him underneath him and strip him and…

Casey pushed Chuck backwards slightly towards the bed. Chuck pulled his hands out of Casey's shirt and dropped down onto the bed, grabbing Casey's collar and pulling him down too.

Casey crawled on top of Chuck and kissed him, slipping his tongue into Chuck's mouth , unbuttoning his shirt at the same time. Casey covered Chuck completely, his hands reached every part of Chuck's body, his tongue took control of Chuck's mouth, until Chuck couldn't think, couldn't breathe, and couldn't wait any longer as an uncomfortable pressure built in his Buy More-issued slacks. He turned his face, stopping Casey again and making him growl.

"Easy, big guy," Chuck smirked. He put his hands on Casey's chest and rolled them over. He adjusted himself so that he was sitting on Casey, pressing them groin to groin. He wiggled his hips slightly, rubbing Casey in just the right spot and making him groan and shift underneath Chuck. "Let me try," Chuck said as he pulled off Casey's shirt.

He tossed it aside and paused to admire Casey's impressive muscles. He ran his hands over Casey's shirtless upper–half. Casey gripped Chuck's arm and pulled him down into another deep, forceful kiss.

Chuck's hands slid their way down Casey's body. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of his pants. Casey stiffened as Chuck began unbuckling his belt. He turned his face away, hesitating.

"Chuck…" he moaned.

He had meant for it to sound more intimidating; instead it sounded as if he was barely keeping it together, which was exactly the case because Chuck 's mouth was again on his neck, making his brain defunct and bereft of all rational thoughts.

He ran his hands up and down Chuck's slim body and met the nerd's lips again. He barely noticed Chuck now working on the button of his pants.

"Chuck," Casey tried again, speaking against Chuck's lips, desperately trying to regain some form of coherent thought.

Casey fought hard against the blinding possessing lust that threatened to quickly overwhelm him. He had little success; with every thrust of Chuck's tongue, the anchoring weight of Chuck's body, every fantasy of Chuck all coming true at once, Casey could do nothing to fend off Chuck's advances. He couldn't possibly say no.

Chuck's fingers hooked Casey's boxers and began to tug down slightly.

_Shit._

Casey pushed Chuck off of him suddenly, with more force than was necessary, and Chuck let out a small yelp of surprise as he was flipped onto his back on his bed next to Casey. Casey shot up out of the bed and immediately buttoned and belted his pants.

Casey couldn't do this. He couldn't _want_ to do this. What the hell had he been thinking?

"Jeez, what the hell was that for?" Chuck asked as he watched Casey search frantically for his shirt.

Casey didn't answer. He located his shirt and pulled it on, mumbling something that Chuck couldn't understand.

"Casey, talk to me," Chuck said.

"This was a mistake," Casey said through his rigid emotionless expression, glancing around the room.

"What was?"

"Me coming here. This was a mistake. None of this should have happened."

Casey stared at Chuck's Tron poster.

"A mistake?" Chuck's eyes shone with hurt. "That's what this is to you?"

Casey, who had been avoiding Chuck's gaze, turned to him when he heard the hurt in Chuck's voice.

"Chuck, we can't do this." Casey knew Chuck wouldn't accept that as an answer, but he had to try something to make Chuck understand.

"Why not?"

Casey could see the emotions behind Chuck's eyes threatening to rupture his temporarily guarded expression.

"I'm not you asset anymore. I'm your teammate. Technically, we're allowed to do whatever we want!" Chuck whisper-shouted, not wanting to alert Morgan, who was in the other room playing a video game with an online team (Chuck had respectfully declined when Morgan offered him a position earlier).

"It's not that simple," Casey tried again.

"Ok, let me make it simpler. Do you or do you not have feelings for me?" Chuck asked, his tone revealing the depth of his emotions; this question was killing him to ask.

Casey made no move to respond. He merely watched as the hurt in Chuck's eyes spread to become the tension in his shoulders, the twitch of restless fingers, the uncomfortable shift from one foot to another.

"Casey," Chuck tried again. "Do I mean anything to you, or not?"

Casey's mouth opened to respond, but his voice got caught in his throat.

Nothing he wanted to say sounded right, anyway.

Chuck looked away, unable to wait any longer for a response.

"Get out."

Chuck's voice lacked any emotion or infliction, which, in a away, was worse than any pain Chuck could have spoken with. It gave Casey a dull ache in his chest.

Casey's voice found him again, and his expression matched his desperation to make Chuck understand.

"Chuck, please…"

"I said get out, and if you don't leave willingly then I will force you out myself," Chuck said softly, but fiercely, and his eyes exposed the pain of rejection and longing and desire.

The ferocity and intimidation in Chuck's voice might have impressed Casey, if it were not for the fact that Chuck was directing it at him. Unsure of how to respond, and realizing that he had done enough damage for the night, Casey silently obliged.

He turned on his heels and climbed back out through the window, soon soaking wet as the rain poured down.

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**Ok, so this is my rewrite of this chapter. Personally, I like this version a lot better. I didn't change much, only the make-out session. PLEASE tell me what you think! I live on reviews. **

**And please, keep reading, subscribing and reviewing!**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own Chuck, nor do I profit from using its characters.  
**


	2. Gone

Casey sat leaning forward in his seat, unable to pull his face out of the grimace of regret it had fallen into. He watched the screen receiving the feeds from the cameras in Chuck's room intently. Chuck had finished angrily playing a one man shooter video game and had now taken to pacing back and forth, occasionally running his hands through his hair in exasperation.

Casey tried to convince himself that he did not regret the decision he made regarding Chuck, but to no avail. He hated regrets; he didn't believe in dwelling on something that would never change, no matter how much he wanted it to. Besides, he knew that he _absolutely_ could _not_ become involved with Chuck. It was simply too dangerous and Casey outright refused to be the one to put Chuck in danger, or subject him to the possibility of getting hurt.

(And, Casey had to remind himself, he wasn't the kid's handler anymore. Casey had grown to like the idea of protecting Chuck. He had liked knowing that Chuck had to rely on him and trust him completely.)

But Chuck was hurting now, wasn't he? Didn't that mean that Casey should go over to "save" him? He wasn't clear on the rules about helping a teammate when he was the one responsible for hurting them (emotionally, that is).

Casey growled in frustration and dropped his head into his hands, unable to remember a time he had felt so helpless. He glanced up at the screen from between his fingers and noticed Chuck sitting in an identical position at the edge of his bed. He wanted to smile at the irony, but his face wouldn't seem to respond. As he watched Chuck stand up and begin to prepare for bed, his eyes became unfocused, and soon he was lost in thought, grasping blindly for a solution, but finding nothing.

He couldn't be with Chuck- he had already ruled that out- but he also couldn't pretend that nothing had happened. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Casey would be able to pretend that nothing had happened. Hell, he made his living off of pretending. But Chuck probably wouldn't be able to hide the fact that something had changed. He was stuck. There was no foreseeable way out.

"_What was I thinking?"_ Casey thought.

He growled in frustration again, swiping his hand out aggressively, sending his remote flying across the room and plowing into a wall. It broke on impact, bits of plastic shattering in all directions and the batteries dropping to the floor.

"Fantastic," he grumbled as he stood and walked over to clean up the pieces of the now useless remote.

He threw away the shards and made his way back to the couch. He sat down and looked up at the screen as his butt hit the couch, only to shoot up onto his feet again.

Chuck was gone.

Casey repressed the panic growing in his chest, trying not to assume the worst. He cursed himself as he realized that he had just obliterated the only remote he had to the spy-cam receiver, so he couldn't switch to view the other bugged rooms to look for Chuck. Casey picked up the GPS tracking device corresponding to Chuck's watch. It showed his position as being tucked safely in his room. He must have taken the watch off while preparing for bed.

"Damn it!" Casey hissed under his breath as he tucked his knife and gun into their respective holsters. He ran silently to his door and swung it open, pulling out his car keys as he went, realizing with a cold terror in his heart that he now had no way of knowing where Chuck had gone.

* * *

**There you go! Tell me what you think! More to come, and I promise, it's gonna get juicy. **

**(Ok, so I just realized how unrealistic it is that the spy-cam receiver thing only changes feeds by remote and doesn't have a button on it, but whatever. This is my story and it goes how I want it to! lol)**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own Chuck, nor do I profit from using its characters.  
**


	3. Sarah

**Ok, so JSYK I'm ignoring basically the entire third season of Chuck. I can't stand all the junk they've packed in… UGH! This season is frustrating to watch for me. Anyway, in my mind, Casey is still an agent, Chuck is too, Shaw doesn't exist because I don't feel like writing for him, and Morgan is not an agent yet, but he does know that Chuck is. Devon knows as well. So basically, this is set in early season 3.**

**This chapter is RIDICULOUSLY short. It's only a transition chapter, so sit back, read and enjoy!**

* * *

"Casey… Casey! Calm down! Just relax… What? What did you say? What do you mean you can't find Chuck? You've checked his apartment? No, I don't think you're a moron, I'm just trying to help!"

Sarah paced her apartment, back and forth, becoming increasingly panicked and frustrated as Casey yelled into her ear through the phone.

"No, Casey, you're not going to kill him. He's not in Castle either? Have you checked the Buy More? The home theater room, the storage cage? There's no poker game going on tonight?"

Casey informed Sarah loudly, and much to her chagrin, that both Castle and the Buy More were devoid of life.

"What about the Nerd Herder? Where is it? Can't you check the GPS on that? OK, go check that. I'll meet you at Castle. Oh, and Casey? Just try to relax. Chuck can handle himself. He's proven that to us."

Casey only growled and hung up. Sarah threw her phone onto her bed, rushing to tuck her gun into her jeans and strap her knives onto her ankle, her hands trembling as she did so. As she finished and stood up, she heard a quiet, rhythmical knock on her door. She ran to it and flung it open aggressively, startling Chuck who was standing outside, waiting for her.

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own Chuck, nor do I profit from using its characters.**


	4. Sleepover

Sarah flung the door open.

Chuck jumped slightly, a startled squeak escaping the back of his throat. Sarah grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and dragged him inside. She shut the door fiercely behind him and pushed him back against it.

"Whoa, Sarah, hey…"

"What were you thinking?" Sarah snapped.

Chuck stared at her for a moment, mouth agape. He blinked, unsure of what to say. He hadn't expected her to be angry.

"I…I…"

Sarah turned around and stormed away from him with a huff of her breath. She removed her knives from her ankle and her gun from the back of her jeans. Chuck stepped further into the room timidly.

"Sarah…"

"Do you know how worried you had me, Chuck?" Sarah spat out fiercely. She stomped up to him. "Casey called me, frantic, because he had no idea where you'd gone. Do you know how worried you had Case…"

"I don't want to talk about Casey," Chuck blurted. "I came here to get away from Casey," he added quietly as he looked at the floor, the wall, anything but Sarah.

Sarah looked at him curiously, surprised by his outburst.

"Chuck," she rested her fingers on his jaw and gently pushed his face forward to look back at her own. "What happened?"

Chuck only looked at her. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but pinched it shut again, reconsidering.

"Nothing," he chuckled slightly, pasting on a smile. "Nothing, don't worry about it. But I don't want to go back now. Can I stay here tonight?"

Sarah watched him for a moment, searching for any sign of serious trouble; something must have happened to drive Chuck out of his own room and over to hers. Chuck continued to grin at her, showing no signs of the trouble that must have occurred earlier that evening.

"Of course," she replied. "But I do have to call Casey and let him know where you are," Sarah informed him.

"You do that," Chuck replied through his fake smile. He walked past her and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Sarah took out her own and dialed Casey. He answered after one ring.

"You know where he is?" he asked gruffly.

"He showed up at my apartment less than five minutes ago and he's going to stay overnight," Sarah informed him.

"Why?" Casey barked.

Sarah looked back at Chuck, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed playing a game on his phone. She slipped into the hall.

"I don't know, Casey, why don't you tell me? He's obviously upset because of something you did or said to him. What happened?"

Casey growled.

"Nothing."

Sarah heard the line go dead and huffed in frustration. She reentered the room and walked over to Chuck, who was lying spread-eagled on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"What'd Casey say?" he asked, turning his face to her as she approached.

"He didn't tell me what happened, if that's what you mean," Sarah replied as she set her phone down on her bedside table.

Chuck "hhmmm"-ed and turned his attention back to the ceiling, crossing his hands behind his head.

"You're not going to tell me either?" she continued.

Chuck looked at her again and sat up, taking her hand into his.

"Does it really matter?" he asked softly as he gazed deeply into her eyes.

Sarah stared back into Chuck's eyes, slightly mesmerized by the intensity of the emotions there. She became more flustered as she realized the depth of his feeling toward her, and hers towards him. It pleased her to know that his emotions ran so deeply, but it terrified her at the same time. She hadn't felt this way towards anyone for a long time, and the strong need for him took her off guard.

"Well," she said abruptly, desperately trying to break the intensity in Chuck's eyes. "It matters if the issue is going to affect yours and Casey's working relationship. In this line of work, you can't afford to have anything meddle with the relationship between you and your partners," she replied, pulling her hand out of Chuck's as she spoke.

Chuck considered her words for a moment, then looked down with a bitter laugh and a smile.

"You're right," he said, looking back up at her."I'll talk to him and work things out. Just, not tonight. Can I still stay over?"

"Of course," Sarah replied. "I was just getting ready for bed, but if you'd rather, we can go out to dinner or watch a movie to pass the time."

"No. Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine with just going to sleep. Do you have any extra blankets for the couch?"

"Oh."

That was unexpected. Sarah had assumed that Chuck would use half of her bed. It wasn't like they hadn't done it before. But, she supposed, something was different now. Something had happened, and she was desperate to know what.

"Yes, I'll get something for you," she told him.

She couldn't grill him for information; she knew that Chuck would have told her what happened if he really wanted her to know.

She surrendered the blankets and bid him goodnight before heading off to the bathroom to go through her nightly routine. Before she headed to her bed, she stripped down to a thin shirt and underwear. As she walked past Chuck, she noticed that he only spared her a glance, and her heart sunk. She climbed into her bed and sank into her pillow pathetically. She stared the ceiling, lost in thought, until one terrifying, almost unbelievable thought struck her.

Chuck's heart didn't belong solely to her anymore.

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**Here's my latest chapter. I hope you like it! PLEASE keep reading, reviewing and subscribing! It helps so much. I feel like I have a reason to write when I know people enjoy my work.**

**Again, thanks so much for reading! I appreciate it so much. :)**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own Chuck, nor do I profit from using its characters.  
**


	5. Contemplations

Casey growled.

"Nothing."

He hung up his phone and threw it carelessly out in front of him, displeased when it only made a tiny crash on the table he was standing in front of. His fists clenched, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He wanted to pick up the phone and hurl it across the room. He wanted to watch it shatter. He wanted to hear the distinct crack that only comes with destruction. He wanted…

Hell, all he wanted was Chuck. He wanted to feel him, to taste him, to push him onto his bed and…

"_Shut up_," Casey growled to himself internally.

He glared at the cold, unwelcoming gray walls of Castle.

He had traced the location of the Herder to Sarah's location: her apartment. Right as he had picked up his phone to call her, it rang. It was Sarah, who had called to deliver horrifying news.

"_He's going to stay overnight."_

The thought made Casey feel sick to his stomach; he knew where it was going to end up.

All Chuck ever wanted was Sarah, and now he had her. He _was_ spending the night with her, after all. Where else would it lead but into her bed? It didn't even take Chuck a half an hour to jump from Casey to Sarah. Not very Chuck-like, but then again, he did strange things when he was heart-broken. Casey could only hope it was worth it for Chuck.

Abruptly, Casey turned and walked swiftly through Castle in search of a distraction, banishing his torturous thoughts from his head. He wound up in one of Castle's armories, disappointed to find all guns cleaned and filed away neatly (his doing, of course). With nothing to do and no missions to occupy him overnight, Casey left Castle and headed back to his apartment.

Stupid Chuck. Stupid Sarah. Stupid Intersect.

That damn computer was the only thing that kept them all there together. Chuck, the moron, had put it into his head willingly the second time around.

Casey had almost been _free_! He had been _on _the plane to _freedom_! Not only from Burbank, but also from Chuck and his obsession with Walker. It was sickening, really. Chuck had let the lines get blurred between spy-life and real-life. Casey had no doubt that Chuck's feelings were real, but his inability to distinguish work-romance from real-romance made him fall for Sarah that much harder.

And Sarah deserved just as much blame as Chuck. She dangled herself in front of him, taunting him, testing him to see if he would fall for her tricks. She probably didn't do it consciously; her actions were probably guided and clouded over by her lust for Chuck. But that didn't mean she didn't do it. She'd dangle herself in front of Chuck, and when he leapt for what he wanted (her), she would pull it (her love and affection) away at the last second, most likely subconsciously frightened by his aggressive approach (and her own issues with intimacy), and Chuck would hit the floor hard and disappointed and hurting. It all made Casey sick.

He arrived at his apartment, angry and frustrated. He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned back against it, thumping his head.

Once again he was caught between romance, love happiness, and his job, his dedication and obligation to his country. His job had already won out more than once in the past; why should this time be any different? How was this time with Chuck any different from the last time he was in lo…

Casey stiffened.

Oh, god.

Love.

He had really just thought the word. He shook his head in disbelief and laughed bitterly. He… loved… Chuck (it was even painful to think). He loved Chuck. He. Loved. Chuck.

"Wow."

Casey shook his head again and pushed away from the door.

Love.

He couldn't get he word out of his head. It reminded him of Chuck's smell, his taste, the feel of his muscles underneath him, the heat of his lips against his own. Casey ran his fingers over his lips subconsciously.

He laid down length-wise on his couch and borrowed his face into a pillow, wondering what possessed him to act so stupidly in Chuck's room earlier that night. Chuck had wanted him. He had wanted Casey, and Casey had walked away.

Maybe it was a bit rash to reject Chuck so insultingly. But Casey had freaked. Real intimacy was a challenge he did not face head-on daily. He had diffused bombs, been thrown out of windows (strapped to a chair and Chuck), handled dangerous firearms on a daily basis, ridden in helicopters, and fought off huge numbers of others with dangerous weapons… all in the past three years. Love, however, was an entirely different, and more terrifying, mission.

Casey had felt himself slipping, in danger of falling down, past the point of no return. Love was a dangerous place that no one could extricate him from, and the thought was terrifying. Once he was in, he could not claw his way out., and the thought had been too much to handle in Chuck's room.

If only he could make Chuck understand. If only he possessed the ability to allow himself to tell Chuck how he felt. But words were not his forte, Casey thought, as he rolled off the couch.

He made his way into the kitchen and grabbed his most bitter alcohol and a glass. He downed a first glass and poured himself another. He didn't need all of these useless thoughts running around in his head. And what better way was there to make things easier than with alcohol?

* * *

**Please read and enjoy!**

**And, as always, tell me what you think! I love feedback. :)**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own Chuck, not do I profit from using its characters.  
**


	6. Complications

Chuck awoke on his back with an unfortunate crick in his neck. He sat up quickly, inspecting the room that was strangely not his own, and was pushed back to the night before. This was not the way he had planned to get himself into Sarah's room.

He picked up his phone from the end table and opened a message from Sarah waiting for his attention.

_Chuck,_

_On a morning run. Will be back soon._

His phone rang suddenly, Morgan's face invading the screen.

"Hey, buddy," Chuck answered.

"Chuck! Chuck, oh you're okay. Thank goodness!"

"Okay? Are you kidding? I'm in the oh-so-torturous hell-hole of Sarah's apartment," Chuck quipped. "Help," he added sarastically.

"Wha- Sarah's apartment? Is there something you'd like to tell me Chuck?" Morgan pressed.

"She's a runner."

"No! I mean would you like to share with me the reason behind your late night tryst in Sarah's apartment?"

"Nothing happened, Morgan, if that's what you're trying to get out of me, very subtly by the way." Chuck pressed his fingers to his forehead and scrunched his eyes shut. This was the last conversation he wanted to have.

"What? Nothing happ- Chuck, if the Serenity landed in your backyard-"

"We live in an apartment."

"Wouldn't you absolutely one-hundred percent _need_ to go in? Explore the ship? Meet Jane Cobb?"

"Apartments don't have backyards."

"That's not the point!"

"Well, that was a wonderful objectification of Sarah, buddy, but I didn't come here for... that," Chuck finished with a wince, realizing that he had revelaed too much.

"Okay," Morgan drawled out slowly, obviously confused. "Well then, what did you go there for? And, more importantly, why didn't you tell me?"

Chuck huffed and ran his fingers through his bed-head hair. He rubbed the back of his neck. It was still raining outside. "It's.. it's complicated," he finished lamely.

"So explain it to me slowly," Morgan answered simply.

"Morgan, buddy, I'd love to..."

"But?"

_"But," _Chuck continued, "I'm still trying to figure it out myself."

Morgan was silent for a moment. "Okay," he said finally. "Well, when you do figure it out, you know you can come talk to me about it. I'm always here for you."

"Thanks. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that."

"Oh! By the way, your alarm's been going off for, like, an hour."

"What?" Chuck exclaimed, fumbling for his watch on the end table. It was already twenty minutes past the start of his eight o'clock shift.

"Yeah, after the first fifty minutes, I started getting worried that you were kidnapped or dead or something."

"Morgan, I've gotta go."

"Wait! Which button turns this thing off? It's so annoying."

"You press... just unplug it, Morgan, I have to go," Chuck replied, tangling himself in the blanket as he tried to fling it away from himself. He heard his alarm in the background through his phone's speakers, slowly getting louder as, he assumed, Morgan walked towards it.

"Ok, here's the plug aaand..."

The alarm silenced.

"Finally. That is one effective alarm, dude. It wakes you up because it's so annoying, and then you _have _to get up because you're so desperate to turn it off! Good thinking, Chuck," Morgan babbled.

"Yeah, sure," Chuck responded absently as he untangled his legs from the blanket. He flung it off of himself, and his momentum rolled him off of the couch with a yelp.

"Whoa, you okay there buddy?"

Chuck stood and picked up his phone. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Listen, Morgan, I really have to go. I'm so late."

"Okay man, see you at work."

"See you there."

"Hey, Chuck!"

_"_What?"

"Why would you joke about Sarah's apartment torturing you?"

"Good bye, Morgan."

Oh, and Chuck!"

_"What?"_

"I'm here for ya."

"Thanks, Morgan." Chuck pulled the phone away from his ear.

"Twenty-four seven!" he heard Morgan shout before he hung up. He chuckled.

* * *

Chuck raced into the Buy More, slightly damp from the rain, and immediately skidded to a halt to avoid the unusually large crowd of morning customers.

"Bartowski!"

"Chuck flinched at the harsh voice, his shoulders tense. He turned, pasting on a smile.

"Yes, Big Mike?"

Bike Mike walked up to Chuck and looked him up and down. "You look like you just rolled out of a dumpster."

"I... a dumpster? That's a little harsh."

"Bartowski, _where _is John Casey?"

Chuck barely concealed his wince at he name. "John Casey? You're, you're looking for John Casey?" he stuttered awkwardly. I... have not seen him... today. I don't know where he is or what he's doing."

"Well, go find him," Big Mike ordered. He looked Chuck up and down again. "And don't come back until you've had a shower." He turned and headed back to his office.

Chuck sighed before turning and exiting the store.

He had rushed getting out of Sarah's apartment, running his fingers through his hair and having to search for a misplaced shoe. His shirt was in fine shape, seeing as he had taken it off before going to sleep, but his slacks were rumpled and the legs had gotten twisted around during the night. Not wanting to go through Sarah's bathroom, he hadn't showered or brushed his teeth. He had sprinted out of her apartment and bumped straight into her as he turned a corner down the hallway. "I'm late!" he's nearly shouted at her, and gave her a quick peck on the lips (it has become second nature at this point) and rushed off before she could get in a word.

Now he was in his shower, leaning against the wall and preparing himself for the furious hellfire surely awaiting him in Casey's apartment for trying to seduce him last night. He stepped out of the shower, and dressed slowly.

The walk through the courtyard seemed insufferably long. He stopped on Casey's doorstep, lifted his hand, winced, and knocked, hoping Casey had somehow developed amnesia since the last time Chuck saw him.

* * *

**Okay, first of all... I'M SORRY! I'm so sorry to all of my subscribers who have had to wait so ridiculously long for this! **

**The reason I haven't updated for... eight months... is.. well, I don't like my own story. After reading it a few more times, I realized that I don't particularly like the way certain parts are written. I'm going to leave it all the same because I know that what I wrote is what got me so many subscribers (thank you, by the way to all of you who have subscribed!) but for a while I really didn't WANT to update because I didn't want to bring any more attention to my story. Maybe that sounds ridiculous but...**

**Anyway, I figured that it wouldn't be fair to you guys to give up on my story, so.. FINALLY.. here it is. Mah latest update. I have the next chapter written up and I WILL post it soon. I promise!**

**Again, thank you to all of my readers! I appreciate it so much.**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own Chuck, nor do I profit from using its characters.  
**


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